Human Nature
by SirBrian
Summary: A vampire's past can never really be buried. Especially a vampire with a past like Hal's. HalxOC. Also FergusxOC. Set post 4.03
1. England 1855

I do not own any of the Being Human characters or the world of Being Human. It all belongs to the Beeb. I only own my original character. After 4.03 I thought it was time Hal proved Tom wrong. I think we all know Hal can definitely 'do it'...*teehee* :3

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><p><em><strong>England 1855: <strong>__"O, beware, my lord, of jealousy! It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on." – (Othello) William Shakespeare_

Houses always seemed far more appealing when the halls had been touched up with their occupant's blood. It improved the smell tenfold. Honestly, who needed perfume when the tang of iron still crackled in the atmosphere? Although, it would be impossible to wash off it left any longer. That was always a problem. Stains. Clothing was discarded frequently, to quite suspicious amounts if anyone noticed. Although, no one would ever really question the real reason behind the pink tinged shirts and blood encrusted trousers. It may have been a common occurrence in war, on a battlefield which was nothing more than blood, mud and wasted lives, but not on home soil. Human minds were incapable of dealing with the cold, honest truth. Not unless it literally pounced and ripped out their jugular.

Fergus manoeuvred his way around the detritus. Upturned furniture. Torn paintings. Cadavers. Many still lay there with the wide eyes of a startled rabbit. By now their pupils had turned glassy. Men would be unnerved by that dead look; some even moved enough to lose their grip on reality. The number of British soldiers who had been shot for cowardice, when really they just couldn't find the strength to face another mass burial of their comrades. Not Fergus. He would never think twice about the bodies scattered through the building or those on the Crimean Peninsula.

The vampire continued on his way downstairs.

One of the daughters, Hal had said. It was a wonder Fergus wasn't leaping down the flights of stairs to reach the cellar and take his prize. In fact, he was strolling rather lazily to the basement. He took long draws on his pipe, just picturing the frightened image of the girl that awaited her fate. Trembling lips. Creamy goose pimpled flesh. Red cells pulsing through vital organs. It stirred the beast in him. Fergus came to a complete halt at the front door. In truth, he was biding his time. He was expecting a visitor. He tapped his foot impatiently on the blood splattered rug. The doorman had been the first. Had his neck shredded by Hal the moment he had invited them in.

Fergus toyed with the stained collar of his shirt. Dry flecks of blood crumbled between his thumb and forefinger, drifting to the floor. If there was a clock nearby, he might have checked it. He would give it a few more minutes; that would be enough time to tell if his guest was coming or not. They were usually so precise. Precise and reliable.

_Ding-dong._

In one unhesitating swoop, Fergus unlocked the front door and pulled it open with such force the solid wall cracked. The world outside was serene, green and bathed with the English sun. If the house wasn't in such a state it might have been perceived as the perfect, idyllic British country house. The only thing this moment was lacking was a caller waiting patiently on the front porch to be invited in by the new occupiers. With deliberation, Fergus took one step across the threshold. The property owner was dead, so he – and any other vampire – could come and go as they pleased. There was no one to be seen. As a trickster himself, other people's games bored him. He did not have the patience for hide-and-seek. Another step.

'Is the master of this fine establishment at home?' The voice was eloquent, feminine. Behind him.

Fergus chuckled, pivoting on the heel of his shoe to face the entrance hall of the grand house. He passed a lopsided smirk in the direction of the pretty picture which stood before him. Plaid silk taffeta clutched at the curves and spilled out into a full skirt. It concealed everything and yet exposed enough for Fergus to mentally strip the woman down to her underwear…and further.

'The master's out,' he replied, nonchalantly kicking the door shut with a resounding slam.

'What a shame,' came the sarcastic drawl, accompanied by a charming grin. A dimple was dented into her left cheek. The woman in her 20s, dark in complexion, hair and nature – as Fergus knew all too well – gazed scornfully around the room. She dramatically tapped a finger against her chin in mock thought. 'Maybe he should consider hiring better staff in his absence.' A graceful foot peeked out from under her dress, like a curious mouse, to nudge the listless arm of the doorman. The limb moved upwards with the foot, then flopped back to its original position.

Fergus wouldn't keep up the small talk for long. At first it was fun, then it became tiresome. And she knew it. He had just slipped his extinguished pipe into his pocket and within seconds she was before him. One hand was playing with his blood encrusted collar, the other with his belt buckle. Her curved nose sniffed. She sighed contentedly at the scent of human blood and the lingering tobacco smoke. The pink tip of her tongue flicked out, tasting what was left on his chin. The tongue moved upwards. Slowly. Teasingly. Her newly protruding fangs nipped at his bottom lip. A growl rumbled in Fergus' throat.

'I don't suppose you or Hal have left anyone alive in this heap of bricks?' Her tongue darted out again, grazing against his mouth. He was tempted to snap back, but over the years he had become practised in resisting her charms.

'You're in luck,' Fergus muttered. His voice had deepened. 'Lord Hal left a present in the cellar.'

-x-

The maid had been sweet. Not that Hal was concerned – he would kill anyone if he was hungry and even if he wasn't on most occasions. He sauntered down the stairs, sucking his fingers like a messy child would with chocolate. He savoured every last remnant of human blood. Hal glanced at his current state of undress; his chest was smeared with blood, streaked like a red zebra. The vampire frowned at his own sloppiness. Even being the monster that he was, Hal would still make sure he was clean as a whistle by the time he and Fergus left. They couldn't very well step out in public as if they had just rolled through a recently filled mass grave. And as a gentleman Hal had to keep himself spick and span. Although, he did rather like to entertain the idea of causing a stir, making a scene, and blood drenched clothing and a face reminiscent of a messily fed baby would certainly do the trick.

Speaking of Fergus…Surely he would have ripped that girl's throat out by now. Unless he was playing his usual games. Scaring her. Taunting her. Making sure her whole form was trembling with terror before he finally killed her. Hal knew how Fergus was, for the best part of a few decades.

Hal reached the ground floor, halting his trip to the cellar of the building, as his keen sense of smell picked up a new scent in the air. A suggestion of a woman's perfume. Not anything the women of the household had been wearing, or he would not have been so confused by it. Then it finally dawned on him. He did recognize the scent. The sweet smell of violets. It had often lingered where he did not want to find it. It meant _she _was here. Bloody hell, of course she was here! Hal followed his nose, kicking limbs aside to clear a path. The floral scent led into the cellar, where it mingled with freshly spilt blood and the dull hint of fading human life.

The vampire mentally compared his choices, as he waited at the stop at the top of the stairs. Barge in. Humiliate Fergus. He was bored of always waiting for Fergus to finish fucking…Well, Hal didn't really quite know what to call her. Hal was about to step forward. His foot stopped. He could wait…It wouldn't kill him. Besides, he had to find a clean shirt. He still didn't move. A new stimulus had alerted his senses.

Hal could hear giggling; not in the irritating, childish way, in the alluring, feminine way. He enjoyed her laugh. Unfortunately on most occasions, when they had been in each other's company, she wasn't laughing with him, merely around him. Why couldn't he make her laugh like that? He was older than Fergus. More powerful. Funnier too (if he said so himself). He was the superior one in every way. And yet, she never seemed interested in him.

The laughing had stopped.

Hal's curiosity got the better of him; it wasn't good enough for him to just listen. He had to see for himself. With his natural predatory instinct, he skulked quietly into the basement level of the house.

The first thing he spotted was the body of the daughter, which lay face down. Her skin was pale, not the warm tone it had been when he had tied her up in the corner. The rope bonds had been torn apart and scattered across the floor in ragged, uneven tendrils. No time had been wasted on this human. A shallow pool of blood was now congealing into a thick, gelatinous mess about the body, having already turned the duck-egg shade of her dress into a warm shade of pink.

The Old One crouched down on the stairs, peering through the banisters. He made certain that he was hidden by the shadows, not that there was much light in the cellar any way.

They were against a wall, as Fergus tried to find the ties of her dress and she tried to devoid him of the rest of his soiled uniform. Their mouths and clothes had been freshly covered with the daughter's blood. Lips and fangs clashed for dominance. There was a violent tear when Fergus shredded the bodice of her dress. In retaliation, she bit down especially hard on his neck.

'Christ!' Fergus hissed. 'What the blinkin' hell was that for?'

'What do you expect me to wear when you keep destroying my dresses?' Her pupils were dark with a mixture of anger and lust. Not that Fergus appeared concerned. His eyes had wandered to the boning and lace of her undergarments. Hal's had too. The perfect contrast of the white fabric against her dark skin.

'Don't worry. I can get you a new one.'

After a few seconds of consideration, a smirk came to her face. 'Promise?' Something twitched in Hal's trousers at the huskiness of her voice. The curve of her dangerous lips. The hour-glass in her figure. He faintly noticed Fergus nod, before he began biting his way down her throat to her clavicle. The Old One almost scoffed at how casually Fergus made his so called promises.

Hal rose from his hiding place. He would not allow his inquisitiveness to become degeneracy. However, just as he moved, his hawk-like eyes caught sight of her. Her neck was angled in pleasure, but she was looking straight at him. Had she known he was there all this time? Or had she only just realised? Her gaze appeared to be one of composed shock and discerning. Although, her eyes were at a paradox with her mouth; coated in blood with fangs just visible behind her lips. Hal could not interpret her thoughts at that exact moment in time, but he would always remember feeling uncomfortable while at the same time transfixed on her face. She was focused on him. Not Fergus. And for a moment…Then she turned away, kissing Fergus more desperately than before.

Hal scowled and left.

-x-

He had slipped away into the deceased master's room to rummage for a shirt. While nonchalantly scattering the dead man's clothing on the floor, a quiet rustle came from the other side of the closed bedroom door. Hal looked. A shadow passed, accompanied by the muted padding of bare feet. A pristine sheet of note paper was slipped under the door, folded twice into a square. He retrieved the note and unfurled it. At the centre of the paper, written in the flowing, linked script of a fountain pen, was a short message:

_Do not be upset._

Hal scrunched up the paper and threw it into an obsolete corner. Cow. Bitch. Whore. Puerile Cowbitchwhore. Such an obscure note only infuriated him, made him feel diminutive, irrelevant. Did she think him too stupid to be given a full explanation? He was an Old One. He could storm after her and tear her limb from perfect limb. He hated her. He wanted to hate her. Hal dealt a hefty blow to the wall. He couldn't fool himself. He just wanted her.


	2. Present Day

_**Present Day: **__"__It is equally offensive to speed a guest who would like to stay and to detain one who is anxious to leave." - Homer_

'Hal! Tom! Get down here now!'

Annie was frantic – on a melodramatic level by normal standards – as she had spotted someone coming up the path.

Ten minutes prior to her piercing shout, Annie had been (as usual) keeping look out by the large window of Honolulu Heights which overlooked the main road and the front garden of the building. In her arms she cradled Eve, while holding the warm milk bottle to the infant's mouth. The baby gurgled contentedly, reaching out with her stubby fingers in an attempt to reach a bouncy curl of Annie's hair.

While revelling in the amount of care she could bestow on Eve, the ghost had also been admiring the display of flowers which she took great attention in looking after. Although, every time someone unfamiliar – and even neighbours – passed by, Annie couldn't help but peer through the blinds to take a closer look. She didn't want to think that she had become paranoid, but there was honestly no other word to describe her newly acquired jitters.

It was at this moment the ghost noticed a young woman had paused by the gate. She was rummaging through her bag – a large, fashionable weekend bag, if Annie were to make a comment. The woman produced a phone. Clearly she had heard it ringing, as she pressed a button on the touch screen and placed it to her ear.

Cautiously, Annie put Eve out of sight in her baby carrier on the nearby chair. The next time she parted the blinds to check on the stranger the woman was still on the phone, but now pushing open the gate to head up the path. That was when Annie had shouted to get the guys' attention.

A thundering stampede erupted upstairs, as two pairs of feet began running from the next floor. Tom arrived first, to find Annie watching out the window intently.

'What's up?' he asked, walking over to look too. Hal arrived seconds later, just as someone rang the door bell. The shrill tone of the buzzer attracted all eyes to the front door. Tom reached into the deep back pocket of his trousers, producing a hand carved and well used stake. He slipped it in the front pocket of his jumper. The visitor rang the doorbell again, unaware of the possible attack the friends were preparing for.

Still in the hallway, Hal approached. He opened the inside door, but waited for Tom to come to his side before opening the main door. Annie waited in the living room, fixed in the same spot. She would keep a safe watch on Eve. Tom nodded for Hal to open the door; he was prepared. The vampire did so, acting as casually as possible.

'G'dafternoon,' Tom said curtly, teasing the handle of his stake in his hoodie pocket.

'Hi,' came the polite response from the woman on the porch. She passed her gaze from Tom to Hal. And started back.

Hal had gone rigid. None of his muscles wanted to function. His hand was still gripping the door handle tightly. He would break it right off if he didn't let go soon. He should slam the door shut and turn his back. The woman's face was now an exact reflection of his. Bottom lip trembling slightly. Eyes focused.

Finally, Hal rediscovered his voice. 'Do _not_ let her in,' he said coldly. His stunned expression was now unmistakably one of disgust and distrust. Tom and Annie were equally confused.

'Who is it?' the ghost hissed from her post by the window. Tom shrugged. Hal ignored her. All his attention was focused on the visitor.

'Hal?' the woman questioned. 'Well, isn't this an unexpected surprise.' Her voice was soft, uncertain. It appeared to show her genuine shock at the situation, but Hal was not convinced. She was a master of trickery – a nuisance, Hal would say – just like the company she kept. He took a step forward, using his figure to block the door way completely. Not that she could enter unless someone invited her in.

'What are you doing here?' he demanded, his arms now folded across his chest. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder.

'Would you believe that this is a genuine coincidence?'

'No.'

'Well it is.' She took a second to glance over Hal's shoulder at Tom. She could see his hand inside his hoodie pocket, playing with something he had there. Her eyes narrowed. 'I'm no threat,' she said sternly. She then sniffed the air and her face creased up in disgust.

'How d' I know that?' Tom retorted. He eased the handle of the stake out.

'You're living with a Lyco?'

Annie had gradually been creeping her way closer to the door and was now listening in from behind the wall which led into the hallway. She was a naturally nosey character. To be in the dark was a _serious _problem for the ghost. This was one of those occasions. 'Would someone please explain who on earth she is!'

'That's offensive!' Tom exclaimed in response to the woman's derogatory comment. Nothing annoyed him quite as much as insults to his species. His stake was now poised to strike the woman right in the chest. One of Hal's strong arms held him back. He was behaving rather composed considering the current situation. But he was definitely struggling to make sure he too didn't lash out.

'I'll handle this,' he assured the others.

'Hal!' Annie grumbled. But he had already closed the front door behind him. The ghost scurried back to the living room window, followed closely by Tom. Annie parted the blinds, pressing her face as close to the glass as possible. Tom leaned in beside her to watch too. They had front row seats for whatever was about to unfold in the front garden. The only issue – minor for Tom and major for Annie – was that they couldn't hear what was being said.

Hal had forced the woman back down the path. Even the passers-by could see them from that position. She was still scowling from the encounter with Tom. After a moments breath she spoke again, the muscles in her face relaxing.

'Sorry.'

Hal had never heard her voice sound so sincere, in all the time he had known her. She tucked some stray hair behind her ear. As the Old One standing in front of her remembered, her hair had been an untameable mane and even now it was trying to escape from the side-plait which bound it. Ignoring her apology, he went straight back to business.

'You never answered my original question. _Why _are you here?' His arms were still folded defensively and the glint of anger was evident in his eyes. She scuffed a foot on the path and took a moment to stare at the blooming flowers.

'I was looking for Fergus. Where is -…'

Hal rolled his eyes, huffing. It should have been obvious. 'I should have known,' he stated obtusely.

'I don't know what you mean,' she denied instantly.

'You know _exactly _what I mean,' Hal interjected just as quickly. Now it was her turn to demand answers. She had turned on the offensive and was leaning into the other vampire's personal space. Hal felt discomfort scratch under his skin.

'Now you're not answering my questions.'

'If you're so desperate to know, Fergus is dead.' Hal was so nonchalant on the subject that he didn't even flinch when the woman's words choked in her throat. Not outwardly at least. He didn't want to be heartless – it was downright unsavoury to upset a lady - but in showing sympathy he might be drawn back to her. She was dangerous territory.

'Since when?' She did not seem as heart-broken on the subject as Hal had expected. However, her composure was most likely a front. She was just never this docile. Then Hal reminded himself: people change. He was a perfect example of that fact.

'Just over a week ago.' He decided to explain the full details now and save further questioning. 'He attacked us here, so I staked him.' Her gaze snapped in his direction. 'Does that bother you?'

'Would I draw some sort of emotional response with my answer?' she sneered. 'You've been strangely tame since I arrived.' Hal's skin trembled. She made him sound like such an animal.

'Things have…changed.'

She scoffed bitterly. 'Clearly.' Then she let out a long sigh and once again played with the strap of her bag. Was she trying to hide her feelings or just genuinely indifferent? Hal had a second long flashback as he recalled the time in 1855 when she had noticed him in the cellar. Her expression was as blank then as it was now. He wanted to be able to read her. But even now he couldn't. 'My flight is not for another two days,' she muttered.

'Flight?' Hal cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

'Back to America,' she clarified, indicating her tightly packed bag. 'You don't think I carry this much around with me all the time do you?' The most partial smile came to the edge of Hal's mouth, but vanished as quickly as it had appeared. 'If you don't believe me on that fact I could show you the tickets.'

Hal waved his hands in dismissal. 'There's no need.'

'I didn't come here to start an argument, Hal,' she assured him. He was still wary of her. 'Honestly, I didn't…'

'As I remember you were rather skilled in causing disagreements.' The poison in his voice grated on her, as the Welsh wind picked up and began playing with the loose ends of her hair. He watched the sway of her hair and his gaze soon picked out the details on the rest of her figure. Modern dress was far more becoming of her, not that he had paid too much attention to that. He inadvertently corrected himself. 'What I mean to say is, it is better that you do not linger here. For both our sakes.'

'And what do you mean by that?'

Hal didn't want to go into detail on the matter. Not with her. It would make things more complicated than they were already becoming. 'It's dangerous.' He felt a sweat breaking out on his brow. He could feel his resilience beginning to crack. He just couldn't keep his lips sealed.

'Everywhere is dangerous, Hal,' she pointed out. 'What with the Old Ones – you being excluded – currently heading towards the beautiful, British coast.' Her features had become lined with an undeniable look of grimace. 'Why d'you think I'm heading back across the pond so soon?'

Hal gave up the crossed arms he had held in place for their entire conversation. His arms sank to his sides and he slipped his hands into his trousers pockets. There could have been so many things they could have talked about. Why she was living in America. What she had been doing for the past century. Small talk. That was the realm of humans.

Then he considered: Honolulu Heights – what a stupid and obnoxious name – was possibly one of the most secure places in Wales. As long as he steered clear of her, she could stay for a couple of days. He could do that. Easily. He had a routine to upkeep.

'Just, wait here a moment.' Hal walked back to the front door and let himself in. The woman stayed on the path, and only then noticed the pair of spectators at the window. Tom quickly moved away and Annie was distracted by Hal. The vampire spoke quickly to the ghost and Annie replied with a frown of contempt. However, a few seconds later she had conceded. Hal ventured back outside and held the door open for the woman. 'Please, come in.'

'Seriously?'

Hal nodded and backed up against the wall so she wouldn't touch him when she entered. He didn't even want her bag to so much as brush against his shirt. As she crossed the threshold, Hal spotted that she still carried herself with the same decorum of a Victorian lady. Her posture was quite impeccable.

He directed her into the living room, where Tom and Annie were waiting. The ghost was cradling Eve in her arms once more and gave an expectant look to the vampire to introduce his acquaintance properly.

'Tom. Annie. This is Elizabeth Jefferson.'


	3. England 1856

_Historic Background: The Crimean War occurred from October 1853 - February 1956, just in case you didn't know :)_

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><p><em><strong>England 1856: <strong>__"No one can build his security upon the nobleness of another person." – Willa Cather_

They walked through the street together. Like a fucking couple. And Fergus was uncharacteristically pleasant around her. The end of the war had signaled the time for celebration; in their case locking themselves away in some room to pursue bawdy activities and only venturing out for a spot of midnight snacking.

After this episode, Fergus, being Fergus, had damaged most of her dresses and owed her a new wardrobe. He was happy to accompany her to the dress shop however many looks were passed in their direction. "She's too well dressed for a slave." "What a scandal this will cause." "What unsuitable conduct for a British soldier." Vampires as a species didn't care much about social conduct. If someone had really upset a vampire they would know about it; while they were having the skin ripped from their throats. And there had been a few occasions where a reproaching human had found themselves at the end of Fergus or Elizabeth's fangs.

In public they appeared to be any other amicable couple. It seemed to Hal that they genuinely enjoyed each other's company, where others – the living and the living dead – were putting on a show. Hal could get attention of course – from the living and the living dead – but it was temporary and normally only cemented on lust. Their relationship appeared to be real.

He couldn't help but be resentful of that.

Hal tried to convince himself that they had drawn up some kind of contract: Fergus showed her affection and bought her material items; she gave him sex. Yes. That must have been it.

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><p><em><strong>AN: **I would just like to thank everyone who has been reading my story so far and reviewing it! It means a great deal to me :)_


	4. Present Afternoon

_**Present Afternoon: **__"__Having a baby's sweet face so close to your own...is a great tonic for a sad soul." – Erica Eisdorfer_

Annie had put as much effort as she always did into playing the good hostess. She trusted Hal's judgement enough to feel comfortable around those he invited in. Once Elizabeth had been introduced – and checked over for a burnt arm, which she decidedly did not have – Annie made sure she worked her way down her mental check list:

1. Allocate the guest one of the rooms and let them settle in.

2. Offer them a drink – preferably tea – and make sure it is ready by the time the guest comes back downstairs.

3. Make them feel comfortable. Really must remember that everyone has their own personal space.

4. Go through the basic house rules.

5. Leave the guest to do what they like – yes, yes, personal space etc.

6. Check on Eve…wrong list…

Everything had been checked off the list. Elizabeth was now in the room two doors along from Hal's, right at the end of the corridor. The vampire was entirely understanding of the ghost's reasoning. Tom had shown a particular dislike to her after the "Lyco" comment so Annie had made sure the vampire was as far away from the werewolf as possible. Despite Elizabeth apologizing seconds after she had come inside, Tom was still clearly upset. Annie, on the other hand, had been quite overjoyed that Elizabeth had agreed to tea. 'Milk and two sugars, please,' the vampire had replied, while setting her bag down on the bed.

Elizabeth had noticed Hal in passing, after she had left her belongings in her room. 'You realise it is impolite to leave a guest in the company of strangers.' There was that teasing nature he had been so accustomed to. His eyes gave her a sweeping and assessing glance.

'I have…a routine.' He was trying to escape; gradually easing himself past the door into his room. Elizabeth clearly registered this, although her eyes suggested she was actually saddened by it. She continued walking down the corridor towards the stairs, calling over her shoulder:

'Then I shan't disrupt it.'

-x-

Tom, Annie and Eve were downstairs. The werewolf was entertaining the baby and Annie was just pouring the freshly boiled water into a clean mug for their visitor. Elizabeth arrived in a silent glide, but it was her natural manner not anything put on to attract attention. Annie spotted her through the serving window in the kitchen, feeling quite envious of the maxi dress the vampire was sporting. Annie couldn't help but feel jealous of some women who could change their wardrobe so regularly, while she was limited to her choices.

Tom glowered at Elizabeth, moving a few inches further away from her and holding Eve securely in his arms. The vampire did not take offence to this. Instead she kept her distance, attempting to offer a hand of friendship by smiling.

'I'm sorry about my earlier comment,' she said. 'I didn't mean to offend you.' Tom continued to stare violently at her. 'The term "Lyco" is pretty much embedded into my vocabulary. And you surprised me.' Elizabeth's eyes fell on Eve, and sudden sense of motherly compassion came over her. Eventually she turned her gaze back to Tom. 'Am I forgiven?'

Tom was perceptive - animal instincts or whatever a person wanted to call it - even when it wasn't close to a full moon. He could see a softer side in Elizabeth. 'I s'pose,' he murmured, looking shamefully at the floor. His apology wouldn't stop him from being cautious of her.

At this moment Annie burst in through the double doors of the kitchen, carrying a steaming mug of tea for Elizabeth. 'Here you are!' she beamed. 'Milk and two sugars – careful it's hot!' Elizabeth thanked the ghost and took the mug firmly in both hands. The heat barely penetrated her skin and she instantly took a sip.

'Mmm. It's been a long time since I've had a good cup of tea.' She sank down into the sofa, unaware of the surge of pride she had just caused Annie. The ghost made herself comfortable on the arm at the other end of the sofa – remembering "personal space" – and angled her body so she could make conversation.

'So, Elizabeth...'

'Please, call me Elle,' she interrupted. 'Elizabeth is so archaic.'

'_Elle_,' Annie corrected herself with a polite smile, 'when were you…? Erm…How old are you?' The ghost thought her question might have been rude, but the vampire made to answer the minute she had taken a mouthful of tea.

'327 overall.' She made it sound like there was nothing abnormal about it. 'I was born in 1684.'

'Bloomin' 'eck,' exclaimed Tom, from his spot by the mantelpiece. Baby Eve gurgled too, as if she was trying to mimic the werewolf's shock. Annie's mouth had formed a perfect 'o' of astonishment.

Elizabeth laughed quietly. 'Not as old as Hal though. I didn't become a vampire until 1707.' The vampire passed a glance between the pair, her brow furrowing slightly. 'You're acting as if you've never met any older vampires.'

'Oh, we have,' Annie said, 'just not as regularly as we do now.'

Tom was curious. He sat down on the arm chair beside him, placing Eve securely in her carrier. 'Are ye' an Old One?' When Eve whined, Tom held out his finger for her to play with.

'No. Not old enough to be classed as one of those.' Annie did not miss the downcast glance Elizabeth passed to the carpet, before she continued. What was she reminiscing about in her mind's eye, the ghost wondered. 'I have met a few. A word of caution,' she lowered her voice in a secretive manner, 'the wrath of an Old One knows no bounds. They're different from other vampires.'

'Not Hal,' Annie denied. Her smile was cheery, but her voice showed her doubts. 'He's reformed. Completely and utterly. Did you know he's been dry for over 50 years now?' Elizabeth's face proved she did not. Only then did it dawn on Annie how long she had been away and how much she had probably missed.

'I never thought Hal would be one to give up blood…'

Annie nodded vigorously.

'So…Just how long have you two known him?'

Annie – and Tom when he could get a word in – went on to explain what they knew of the past half a century of Hal's life; how he met Leo and Pearl; how the three of them had come to Barry from Southend-on-Sea and finally how Hal had come to move in with them. Elizabeth listened politely throughout, while finishing off her tea.

Once the ghost – and werewolf – had finished explaining everything, the vampire let out a long breath. Of course it would take her some time to absorb the news. 'Well…fuck,' was all she said. Elizabeth rose from her seat. 'I'll just put this back in the kitchen.' Annie nodded quietly, watching the tail end of the vampire's dress slip through the kitchen doors after her.

'D'ya fink she's upset?' Tom whispered. 'She mus' know what a nice guy 'Al is now.' Annie pursed her lips in a thoughtful gaze. For all they knew Elizabeth preferred the vampire which ate everyone in his path. She was taking rather a long time in Annie's kitchen. The ghost looked through the serving window. Elizabeth was leaning against the counter top, teasing the end of her plait. Her gaze was lost in some distant corner. But she didn't look upset, just mindful.

'Why don't 'e talk ta 'er?' Tom continued, as a personal thought, while glancing momentarily at Eve. Her eyes were drifting shut, which could only mean one thing. 'I'm gonna put Little'un ta bed.'

'Make sure she's tucked in properly,' Annie called after Tom, as he passed into the hallway and up the stairs. She heard the doors behind her creak. Elizabeth was standing by the breakfast table; the one which had the Scroll laid out on it. Annie quickly rose from her seat.

'I hope I haven't upset you!' she worried, approaching the vampire. 'I bet you weren't expecting anything this dramatic!' The smile Elizabeth passed the ghost was as genuine as they come. Annie was taken aback. She had expected the vampire to be angry, upset, but not happy.

'I'm glad you told me,' she said softly. 'Otherwise I might have assumed that everything was still continuing as it always had been.' Elizabeth was well spoken; Annie could hear her annunciate every syllable. It was as if she had trained her voice up over the many years she had lived. As she spoke her finger traced the Scroll. 'Is that baby the supposed "War Child"?' she asked, unexpectedly.

Annie was reluctant to answer, unsure of how Elizabeth would react. She might decide she wanted to murder Eve or actually decide, like Hal, that there was no point fighting the prophecy embedded in vampire scripture. Annie could be truthful; Hal would come to the rescue if Elizabeth had an adverse reaction.

'Yeah. At least,' Annie didn't want to make herself sound so certain, 'everyone thinks so.' Elizabeth's fingers tapped the dried out "prosthetic" skin. As she leaned over it, Annie noticed the necklace which hung from the vampire's neck. A simple silver pendant in the curved form of a water droplet. It looked antique; cleaned numerous times to keep it in good condition. It might have been a gift from Hal, for all the ghost knew. Although, Annie knew about love and these vampires didn't have the spark of old lovers.

Elizabeth grinned pleasantly. 'She's a cute baby.'

_Cute_, Annie thought. Of all the things a 327 year old vampire could call the baby which may just bring her to an end! Cute!

Then the vampire's mood suddenly dropped. She stared down at her feet, sniffed and then made her way towards the base of the staircase.

'If you don't mind I'm going to try and sort through my belongings,' she feigned her smile this time. Annie could tell through her exceedingly well honed female intuition. 'I'm sure I've got plenty of missed calls.'

'S-sure,' Annie said uncertainly, watching the vampire leave. The ghost was quite surprised, in all honesty. Vampires weren't normally known to express emotions (if they even had any). Nor had she ever heard a vampire appear so caring in the realms of human attachment. In the simplest terms, Annie had never seen a vampire act so…human.

-x-

Even with the strenuous grunts of his own exertion, Hal could hear and smell Elizabeth as she passed his bedroom door. She still wore that particular perfume, the intoxicating scent of violet flowers. It crawled under the closed door, ran across the carpet and filled his nostrils with its sweet scent. It called for him to abandon his press ups and instigate a conversation. But Hal refused to disrupt his routine. The door of the bedroom beside his was closed and floor boards on the opposite side of the wall now creaked under Elizabeth's feet. It was too late now.

Hal continued attacking his muscles with the lengthy exercises.

He would face her at some point; maybe over dinner. He didn't eat of course, but gathering downstairs had become familiar to him. And he was certain that Elizabeth would be willing to join him and his friends around the table. And that way the conversation could not stray into dangerous territories. It would remain conversational, light. Yes, he decided. He would talk to her over dinner.


	5. England 1867, March

_Historic Background: Slavery in the United States was abolished in 1865 after the Civil War._

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><p><em><strong>England 1867 (March): <strong>__"__Anger is a signal, and one worth listening to." – Harriet Lerner_

They had been arguing much more often, recently. Now they could definitely be classed as a couple. Their passion had subsided into routine, then to drudgery and now constant friction. Although, they didn't argue about most of the stereotypical things that human couples might bring up. Oh, no. They were vampires – centuries old – there were much more pressing issues to "discuss". The evenings were rowdy; not because of sexual activities any more. Now it was more often raised voices throwing insults and abuse.

There was one ongoing argument in particular.

She wanted to go back. Back to America. Slavery had been abolished in America for two years now. She was officially a free women in every country. And for some reason she felt an unrelenting need to return to the United States.

'I want to see it, Fergus,' she had said on many occasions.

'Why on God's Earth would you want to go back to the country where you were treated like pig shit?' He always raised his voice, even if she hadn't intended to start a fight. And, of course, she would not lose a fight to Fergus. Hal believed that his so-called friend sometimes forgot that he was younger in vampire years than his lover. But arrogance clouded his judgement and made him believe he could overpower her.

'Because it's _my_ home,' she always retorted.

'Hardly,' the other vampire had scoffed on one particular occasion. This was when one of their larger arguments had commenced and all that pent up frustration finally ruptured.

'Do you think I am so inane that I don't remember how I was treated in my human life?' she growled, clenching her hands into tight balls, as if to punch him square in the jaw. 'It makes no bloody difference to me.'

Fergus responded quickly. 'So you would give up everything you have here to travel somewhere where no one will give a fuck about your existence? I think that makes you pretty "inane", don't you?' Fergus was only concerned for his own selfish ends. His true colours always came out when he was angry and he had offended her deeply. Her fangs snapped out and she gnashed them at him. Fergus reacted with the same action.

'Tell me then, Fergus,' his name was laced with spite, 'what exactly do I have here?' Before he could raise his voice, she answered her own question. 'I'll tell you what. A few fucks. Maybe a roof over my head. I would say that is quite a meaningless existence.'

'Be thankful I give you any attention at all,' Fergus snarled through a clenched jaw. His eyes were ablaze, as were hers. He would hit her. It looked like he was ready to hit her. She practically laughed in bitterness, although it was probably her final attempt at stopping any tears that might spill over.

'As I recall,' she spat, '_you_ are normally the one who is grateful that _I _give you the time of day!' Fergus had been caught out. She was right. But he would never admit that. 'Sweet Lord!' she let out a heavy breath. 'It's like I'm just a worthless whore to you.' Fergus' nostrils flared. His lips had formed a thin line.

'That _is _all you are.'


	6. Present Evening

_**Present Evening: **__"__Good habits result from resisting temptation." - Proverb_

The entire household and their guest had gathered round the table in the kitchen. Tom was opposite Annie and Hal was across from Elizabeth. The atmosphere was calm. Tom was eating, or rather shoveling down, what Annie had cooked for him; Eve, who was resting in Annie's lap, was contentedly drinking the warm milk in her bottle and the vampires, with no necessity to eat, each drank the hot beverages Annie had laid out on coasters for them.

'Annie, you should be commended for taking such great care with everything,' Elizabeth complimented, over the sound of Tom's loud chewing. If the ghost could have blushed she would have, but instead she gave a coy smile.

Hal was being quiet in his usual manner. His plan at conversing over the dinner table was failing miserably. Tom could see the vampire was tapping his left fingers in sequence along his thumb. 1, 2, 3, 4. 4, 3, 2,1. Hal was uncomfortable. The werewolf leaned closer.

'Y'all right, mate?' he whispered. Hal blinked, snapping himself out of whatever trance he was in.

'Fine,' he replied. He picked up his coffee and took a paced gulp of it. Remember. Keep focused. But every time he looked across at _her,_ the "good old days" crashed into the forefront of his mind like an out of control train. She was keeping herself guarded. And, despite his intention to keep the conversation casual, he wanted to know why. Hal swallowed hard, preparing to instigate a conversation. However, Elizabeth got there first. Or, to be precise, Annie was being her usual talkative self and asking questions.

'If you don't mind me asking,' the ghost began, 'how did you become a vampire?'

'A quick bite to the neck and some blood,' Elizabeth joked. Annie chuckled, but Tom couldn't see the funny side of it all. 'No, I urm…I was a slave.' The smile was wiped of Annie's face and the scraping of Tom's fork against his plate ceased instantly. Elizabeth passed a look in Hal's direction, who gave an indistinguishable stare back.

'Oh, God…' Annie didn't know what else to say. It wasn't every day a topic like Elizabeth's rose in conversation. Elizabeth gave Annie a reassuring smile and picked up her mug.

'Don't worry. It doesn't upset me too much anymore,' she took a sip of tea and replaced the mug on its coaster. 'I was a slave,' she continued, 'on an American plantation. And, one summer – I'd just turned 23 – a few European visitors came to stay. My owner was English himself, you see. They were friends of his or something. What I didn't know at the time was that a few of the company were vampires. As a mixed-race slave, or mulatto, I was different from the others on the plantation. My father was actually the man who sold me on to where I was at the time I was turned. Anyway, I digress…One of them took a particular liking to me…' Annie could just picture it. Elizabeth must have stood out; her hair had a wavy, silky texture and her eyes were hazel brown. 'You know how vampires are, I'm sure. All their charm and seduction. The rest of that story needs little explanation.' Comforted by Elizabeth's calmness on the subject, Annie and Tom had both relaxed.

'An' 'ow do ya' two know eachuver?' Tom asked, looking from Hal to Elizabeth, anticipating an answer from one of them.

'Through a series of chance encounters, wouldn't you say, Elizabeth?' Hal cocked an eyebrow staring at his acquaintance. Her smile was slow in forthcoming and when it did show it appeared hesitant.

'I suppose you could say that.' She refused to look at him for the moment. 'It was the late 1700s when I encountered Hal in England. We met a few times before we were properly introduced. He was on a rampage with another vampire.' She was avoiding the gory details, which Hal was genuinely thankful for. Then she added darkly: 'A vampire who is no longer with us.' The silence turned the atmosphere tense until Elizabeth's mood brightened again. 'But enough about me,' the vampire's attention focused on Hal. 'How have _you _been for the last century?'

Hal made his best attempt at a friendly smile. 'Perfectly fine,' he replied, gripping at his mug's handle. How could he avoid the inevitable? 'I gave up blood.' His voice struggled to say the last word with conviction. Tom stared with uncertainty at his friend. He had come to learn all the signs of when Hal might just snap.

'Annie said,' Elizabeth confirmed. Hal wanted her to stop being so understanding. It was so bloody unnatural. She was flirtatious, dangerous, sly, dark, disturbing. Not…nice! He should make her answer the same question. Find out what's really going on.

'And what about you? Have you been up to much recently?'

'Besides making my permanent residence America, I got a job.' Tom perked up. He knew all about jobs after managing to get his first work placement at the café on the high street. Finally something he could be involved in.

'What do ya' do?' he asked.

'I'm a history teacher at a junior school,' she said. 'I've lived through most of the eras I teach about.' Although, she thought, I was rather drunk on blood for a few decades of said eras.

'But what happens when they realise you're not aging?' Annie queried, while adjusting Eve in her lap. The baby had had enough milk for now and was becoming slightly restless.

'Then I hand in my notice and move somewhere else,' the vampire explained. 'I've done it before.' Hal was scowling. She had to be playing one of her games, like she used to do back in the 1800s. There was no way Elizabeth could surround herself with children and not have succeeded in murdering one of them yet.

'I assume you have stopped drinking blood then,' he said judiciously.

'Sadly, no.' Hal knew it. She wasn't as reformed as she was making out to be. Tom felt a sudden urge to find a stake. She might still intend to hurt innocent people. He would not let that happen. 'But I do not do it for sadistic purposes, like I used to,' she stared into Tom's eyes. She knew exactly what was running through his head. 'Besides, there are other means of sating the blood lust.'

'Ooh,' Annie was undeniably intrigued. 'Like what?' Elizabeth rested her arms on the table and weaved her fingers together, as if she were in her classroom invigilating an exam.

'First I had to cut down the number of humans I killed.' Hal was well aware how many she could kill, not that he could be one to pass judgment. 'Then I found that by mixing a little bit of animal blood in my tea or coffee helped to keep my cravings at bay.'

'Animal blood?' The ghost looked disgusted, as if she had a bad taste in her mouth.

'It's vile, but it works.'

Tom was glad he had already finished eating and Hal found himself completely dumbfounded. Eve made a noise as if she was also responding. Everything went silent for a moment. Eventually, Tom rose from his seat, collecting up his plate and the mugs which were now empty.

'Don't worry, I'll wash up,' he told the ghost before she could get her words out. Annie smiled proudly; it was clearly her influence which had taught Tom about house care. Hal once again glanced at Elizabeth. She was still wearing the necklace. Why was she still wearing the necklace? After everything that had happened. Elizabeth almost caught him looking and he instead made it appear that he was checking his watch.

Hal pushed his chair back and stood up. 'Please, excuse me.' He vanished into the hallway and the other three could hear his footsteps travel upstairs. Elizabeth's eyes followed him until he was out of sight, then turned to Annie.

'What's this whole routine he's got going on?'

'It's a thing Leo taught him,' Annie explained, 'you know, the werewolf I told you about. It's to keep him from giving into his urges.'

'And he sticks by it?'

'Without fail.'

'Unless Annie gets in the way,' Tom smirked, lightening the situation. Elizabeth giggled, more so when she saw the expression which overcame Annie's face.

'I will make you clean every room in this house for that comment, Tom McNair!'

-x-

Elizabeth was in her room. The sunlight was fading and in a flickering sequence the streetlights were waking up outside. Annie had helped her to push the two single beds together and she was now sitting cross-legged on the crevice between the two. Her phone was by her right leg; she always wanted it close by, but out of habit than actual need. It made her feel normal to be involved with modern age technology.

She tried to distract herself from what her mind really wanted to shout about. She thought of the test she might give the children when she got back; how she needed to get her hair cut; the clothes she might buy on her shopping trip with Louise the English teacher. Elizabeth grumbled to herself. She didn't really care about any of that right now. The reclusive Hal was plaguing her. She wanted to talk with him properly. She thought that was one of the reasons he had invited her in. If he was going to hide away for the entirety of her stay, she might as well leave.

Elizabeth reached over the side of the bed for her bag and hauled it on to the mattress.

She had only unpacked the more fragile items before dinner, so she had to rummage to find more casual clothes and her toiletries bag. She needed a shower. Yes. A shower would alleviate the matters consuming her thoughts.

Having found everything she needed to take to the bathroom, Elizabeth jumped off the bed. The movement caused the pendant about her neck to swing and fall back against her sternum. She had forgotten it was there. Her fingers teased the silver hanging from the chain. She kept that with her out of habit too.

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><p><em><strong>AN: **Special thanks to werewolfsoldiergirl and PutoFidoSpero for being so encouraging throughout!_


	7. England 1867, May

_**England 1867 (May): **__"__Passion is the quickest to develop, and the quickest to fade. Intimacy develops more slowly..." – Robert Sternberg_

Things had changed. And it was irreversible.

She stayed nearby for a while – for some reason she couldn't bring herself to leave – even after their argument two months ago. Maybe she needed to convince herself that she still had some sort of security in England. And as for her and Fergus, they just didn't talk any more. In fact, Hal had hardly heard her speak since March. Gone was the flirting, the sadistic sense of humour and the wonderful, feminine laugh. She had become a vicious beast of a vampire. A silent demon; devouring everyone and anyone. She didn't just kill, she tortured. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Hal had often thought of the famous quote by Congreve and having witnessed the destruction she had caused in such a short space of time, it now made perfect sense to him.

Yet, despite her unstoppable rage, Hal still found himself drawn to her. Especially now Fergus was an irrelevance. But he rarely had a chance to try and confront her. And even when he did she wouldn't say a word. He would talk at her and she would stare back - the same look of discerning he had witnessed in the cellar twelve years ago - or maybe answer with single words like an irascible child. When their "conversation" was over she would leave.

And that was how time passed, until eventually…

He and Fergus, being the perfect pair as they were, had ripped through another unsuspecting house. Despite the reek of human blood which drenched the house, Hal could smell violets. That scent always reached him before she did. She must have followed them, because she had not travelled with them. The front door was open and shut downstairs with deliberate exaggeration. Heeled boots walked along the hallway and into the drawing room.

Hal abandoned the body of the lady he had just drained and strolled out to the landing. He wiped away the blood which was dripping down his chin, licking it from the back of his hand, as he made his way down the staircase.

She was waiting for him, reclining in an armchair. It was surprising these days to ever see her without blood painted across her skin and soaked into the fibres of her clothes. She was clean. She was ladylike once more; dressed in the current fashion and hair pinned in a complicated bun. His eyes worked down from her face to her neck. She was still wearing that fucking necklace.

Beside her was a carved, oak end-table and on it, a folded sheet of notepaper. He could see his name inked on the exposed side. A letter for him. How typical of her. He knew instantly that this was her making her final farewells. She was finally escaping.

'Are we going to take tea?' he asked cynically (and aptly considering their surroundings). Unless his eyes were deceiving him, Hal was certain he saw the hint of a smile grace her lips.

'This is for you,' she said, pushing the paper towards him. Then, she rose from her seat and walked up to his side. She inhaled the scent of pungent blood that stuck to his person and, just when Hal thought she would delay her exit, she brushed past him to depart. Hal grabbed the silky sleeve of her jacket before she could escape.

'You should stay,' he said. She shook her head, but didn't speak. Instead, she wrenched her arm out of his grip. His hand grabbed hold of her wrist the second time. Bone-crushingly tight. 'I mean it.' Her expressionless face became lined with anger but she did not physically attack him. Her voice was hard when she finally parted her lips.

'No.'

The minute that they were stood staring at each other seemed infinitely longer. Eventually, Hal had to yield. He could tell she wanted to leave before Fergus realised she was here.

Hal's grip loosened. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, in a civil, gentlemanly manner. Her skin was smooth, delicate and her nails were filed and buffed. He perhaps held her a little too long, but she did not protest. However, the moment he released her completely, she was gone.

She never came back.


	8. Present Night I

_**Present Night I: **__"Love truth, and pardon error." – Voltaire_

Eve's incessant crying was starting to grate on the ears of everyone. It was old news that the baby had started teething, a lengthy and painful process for both her and the household. It was Annie's turn on the rota to watch over her, but despite her best attempts at calming Eve – holding out her finger for the baby to gnaw on, cradling her, bobbing her gently up and down in her arms – nothing would work.

'Please,' Annie begged in a desperate whisper, 'or the neighbours will think we're abusing you!' The stairs which led up to the attic room creaked. Maybe Tom or Hal had come to lend a helping hand, but the person who arrived was somewhat of a surprise to the ghost. Not only was it Elizabeth, but she had made a complete transition from the clean-cut image she had sported on arrival. Her hair had been washed and fastened up in a ponytail and she had now donned a pair of jogging bottoms and a shirt which was clearly too big.

'Anything I can do?' Elizabeth asked, wincing as Eve screamed yet again.

'Urm, no, I'm fine. Really. Everything is under control!'

The vampire entered the room, keeping close to the wall. Even at this distance the crucifixes hanging over Eve's crib were bringing on a headache. 'Honestly,' she said, 'I know a thing or two about babies.'

'Did you have children?' Annie asked curiously. 'Y'know...before...?' She made a sweeping hand gesture to indicate Elizabeth's entire form. She shook her head with a look akin to dejection.

'Even if I hadn't been turned, I doubt I would have had the chance to start a _real_ family,' she looked around at the baby toys which had been piled up neatly on either side of the room (most likely by Annie). 'Mulatto girls were very valuable for...various means, if you catch my drift.' Annie didn't need an explanation. Eve was struggling and flailing about in her arms now. The ghost held her out to avoid being smacked across the face by Eve's small hands.

'I can't calm her down.'

'Let me try,' Elizabeth said, reaching out to take Eve. 'You have my word I will not do anything to abuse whatever trust you have in me.' Annie deliberated for a while, but eventually Eve's wailing made up her mind for her. She carefully passed the baby to the vampire, who automatically supported her head in one hand and wrapped the other underneath to cradle Eve's lower half.

Then, in a calming voice, Elizabeth began to sing:

"_Swing low, sweet chariot,_

_Comin' for to carry me home..._"

She continued in the same fashion, swaying Eve from side to side in time with the beat. She held her pinky finger out for the baby who, nibbled on it with her sore gums. Within no time, Eve had been lulled into sleep and curled up against the cold body of Elizabeth.

'Here,' she passed the baby back to Annie, who lay Eve down in her cot and pulled the blanket up over her. The women crept out of the room, before continuing their conversation. Annie pressed her index finger to her lips to indicate that they should keep their voices down.

'How did you do that?'Annie hissed excitedly, pulling the door to behind her. Elizabeth shrugged.

'It's something I remembered from when I was younger...about 300 years younger.'

Annie chuckled, while thanking Elizabeth for her help. The vampire smiled back. Never had she felt such warmth radiate of a ghost, in love and physical body temperature. It was wonderful to feel wanted – one of the few times she had been wanted in her long life. She was also grateful that her crucifix induced migraine was now gone.

'I better get back to watching her,' Annie said eventually. 'We always have someone keeping an eye over Eve, just in case.' Elizabeth nodded in complete understanding.

'I could sit with you if you like,' she offered, slipping her hands into the fleecy pockets of her trousers.

'Oh, no, no, no,' Annie waved her hands dismissively, with a look shock. 'I wouldn't want to keep you away from...whatever you were going to do!' Elizabeth was about to protest but Annie continued. 'Go and relax! Watch TV, or find a book. You're a guest. I wouldn't want you to become a temp babysitter while you're here!' The vampire saw no point in arguing with the ghost. It was obvious Annie had her exact way of doing things. (She hadn't failed to notice the extensive, colour co-ordinated rota on the Hawaii wall downstairs).

'I suppose a good book wouldn't go amiss.' This brought a pearly grin to Annie's face. She slipped round the door and vanished into the nursery. Elizabeth slowly made her way back downstairs, only just realising how natural it felt to hold a baby in her arms. And how alone she now was.

-x-

At precisely four minutes past nine, Hal set aside his final origami creation on the mantle piece in his room. He had managed six since nine o'clock, ranging from the simple crane to the more complex Kawasaki rose which he had just completed. He would have been able to complete many more if he hadn't been interrupted continually by Eve's bawling. As he admired his own work, he spaced them out evenly and precisely, to the millimetre. Once he was content with his work, Hal made his way over to the bookshelf. He scanned the uniformed collections for something to read for the next forty-five minutes. The works of John Clare jumped out at him; he was in the mood for some classical, British poetry.

The vampire settled himself on the sofa by the window and turned to the first page. His fingers worked through it delicately; it was a first edition and the pages would undoubtedly fall from their binding if he pulled them too hard. Eve's crying had now ceased, thankfully. He could read without disruption. Things always seemed to get in the way these days. Hal tried so hard to stick to his routine no matter what, but something always came up. How could it not when the "War Child" was being housed in the room upstairs.

He was partway through the book before there was a knock on the door. He wanted to ignore it. Ignore any interruption to his routine. But that would be impolite. He would not let his manners lapse.

'Come in,' he called out. As the handle was turned and the door pushed open, a voice in Hal's brain began to wish that it would not be Elizabeth. He couldn't smell her perfume, so it couldn't have been. But it was.

For a few seconds she just stared at him, her hands in the pockets of her less-than-feminine trousers. Hal glanced over the top of his book, his fingers beginning to clutch a bit too tightly at the pages.

'Have you got a moment?' she finally asked, stepping over the threshold. Her eyes swept across the room. Her brow arched as she realised just how organised everything was. 'You really do have an obsession with order,' she muttered.

'Did you want something?' Hal asked, still seated and still holding his book. Maybe she would take the hint and leave him alone. That was all he wanted. Well, not completely. He still remembered the final day she was in his company all those years ago.

'I wanted to talk with you.' She sighed. 'Properly talk with you.' Hal swallowed hard. There was nowhere to hide now. She was encroaching on his territory. Elizabeth stepped forward cautiously, shutting the door behind her. 'Are you going to keep hiding behind that book or are we going to behave like adults?'

'Fine.' Hal rose from his seat, closing the book as he stood up. He replaced it on the shelf and then turned back to Elizabeth. 'What did you want to talk about?' The bed was now between them. Her face had changed to complete disbelief.

'Bloody hell, Hal! Anything!' she exclaimed exasperatedly. 'I haven't seen you for 145 years and so far you've hidden away or tried to embarrass me in front of your friends!' Hal remained calm. He refused to start an argument which would attract attention. Confrontation without raised voices would be a challenge with Elizabeth. He too was dying to demand answers. Even now he was struggling to control himself.

'All right then,' he began, his voice a complete contrast to hers, 'should we work chronologically?' His serenity surprised her and she too relaxed. Hal walked to the chest at the end of his bed. He was desperate to keep his distance.

'It's not the case that I want to know everything you've done. According to Annie some pretty traumatic things had happened over the past few years...' As she spoke she spotted the framed picture on the mantelpiece of an elderly, black man. That must have been Leo.

'Annie likes to exaggerate.'

'That may be so, but my point still stands,' Elizabeth countered. 'I don't need explanations. But you pretending that everything has just gone away is doing my head in! I _want _to know how you are. If you're all right.'

Hal huffed. 'Why would you care?'

Because it has always been the question at the back of my mind, she thought. Her voice, however, said something completely different. 'I just think that...honesty is the best policy.'

'Honesty?' his voice rose louder than he had wanted it to. Hal restrained himself. 'If honesty is going to be the foundation of this conversation then I think you need to assess yourself first.' What a nerve she had pretending that she was more truthful than him. Elizabeth had fallen silent. Her shoulders sagged. Her eyes turned to the floor. Then her fingers moved to stroke her necklace. She had found it so easy to question him, but had now shied away like a timid rabbit.

'Go on...' She glanced at him under her curtain of lashes. 'Ask away. You're dying to.'

'Why come back?' he queried without hesitation. 'After so long, what was the point? And don't say it was just for Fergus.'

'I thought that would have been obvious.'

'Answer the question.'

Her bottom lip trembled. 'I was having a moment of insecurity.' Hal's gaze faltered, as he struggled to process that simple sentence. She realised she had caught him off guard. 'You never realised? For all those years?' She laughed quietly. 'Christ, you're blind.' Elizabeth strolled over to the mantelpiece, admiring the origami structures which were lined up. 'You thought Fergus and I cared about each other?'

'You were very convincing...' Hal admitted.

'But only using each other.'

So, Hal had been right. Their feelings had not been authentic, but he had been too envious to really take time to realise that. He looked across the room. Elizabeth had picked up the rose and was running her index finger along the hard edges of the paper. Hal flinched at the image of her damaging his work, but he knew her hands were too delicate to do that (unless she was angry of course).

She had become confident once more. She had control of the ball, as it were. 'I'm willing to explain...If that's what _you_ want.'

'Why were you using him?' Hal didn't care much about the other side of the story. Fergus was dead. He didn't matter. She did. 'What on earth could that vampire possibly have given you?' Elizabeth carefully placed the rose back in its original place; edging it back into the exact spot Hal had previously positioned it. She was clearly aware of his OCD level of precision.

'I suppose you could say he was a safeguard.' Her necklace shone in the unnatural light of the bulb above her; as did the angles of her shoulder blades and jaw. She looked troubled; her brow creased and her teeth nipping at her bottom lip. 'Do you have any idea what being born into slavery does to you? You're an object. A possession. No one cares if you live or die. They'll be more concerned about the money they wasted paying for you.'

The realisation quickly dawned on the older vampire. 'So you found someone who did want you?'

'Exactly,' a forlorn smile tweaked at the edge of Elizabeth's lips. Then she let out a sigh of relief. It was as if she had been waiting to disclose that information with him for years. 'Does that answer everything for you?' Hal nodded, realising that the pity he could never she her before was suddenly bringing a lump to his throat. Strangely the tension in the air between them lightened.

'Wait...There is one more.' The direction of his line of sight gave away what he was about to say. 'Why do you still wear that necklace?'

'Habit, I suppose.' Elizabeth shrugged. 'I just can't seem to get rid of it.'

'You should.' It sounded like he was giving her an instruction. Hal folded his arms across his chest. He was turning on the defensive and she hadn't even spoken. He was anticipating what she might say. She spoke just as he had that thought.

'Let's just say, this is my emotional baggage,' she explained, holding the silver pendant up by the chain. 'You of all people should know that doesn't just go away.'

Hal moved to counter her point instantly. 'I don't let mine rule me. I manage it.' The smile Elizabeth exhibited now was much more pleasant. She looked Hal up and down with an agreeable nod.

'I prefer you now, than I ever did 145 years back. You're much more polite.' Hal felt a numbed sense of pride. 'Not that you weren't before,' her voice was distant and Elizabeth rubbed a thoughtful finger along the back of her right hand. 'Now,' her voice became candid once more, 'tell me why you came down to the cellar in 1855.'

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><p><em><strong>AN: **Once again thank you to all those who have put this on their story alert/ reviewed! And I would love to hear other reader's opinions! I do hope you continue to enjoy it :3_


	9. Present Night II

Thank you all for being so patient with me! I have finally written the next chapter *fanfare* **Warning:** Sauciness/ explicitness in the latter half of this chapter. (Never have I written anything at 3 in the morning, I do apologise).

* * *

><p><em><strong>Present Night II: <strong>__"The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed." – Carl Jung_

Hal felt the sudden need to run. Maybe to the high street. Or the café. Somewhere she wouldn't find him.

His bottom lip was shuddering, but his brain had gone blank. It was impossible to make up a plausible excuse when she was watching him so closely. Perhaps he should defend himself with another question. No. She would just bully him into answering hers first. Bloody hell! Of all the things she could have wrenched up from the sea bed. Something which reminded him of how awful he used to be.

'I err...was on my way down to tell Fergus to get a move on.'

She knew he wasn't lying, she could sense it in the steadiness of his voice. But for some reason she was still passing him a scrutinising look across the room. 'Come on now,' she picked up his origami crane. 'You wanted us to be honest, and that question has been waiting on the tip of my tongue for over a century.'

'Hold on a minute,' Hal pointed an accusing finger at her. 'You left me that note.' He could practically feel the anger burning in the pit of his stomach at the memory of that day. 'You already know the answer.'

'Well you did storm off like a moody teenager.' The paper bird twirled about in her fingers. 'It's very pretty – I could only assume what was going through your head. Of course, I wanted to tease you at the same time.' He spotted the flirtatious glint sparkle in her eyes. It vanished quickly. 'But I want to hear _you_ say it.'

Hal's arms had dropped to his side and he kept flexing his fingers at a steady pace. It felt so awkward. Part of him wanted to tell her the truth. The other part wanted to tell her to go away. Then there was that tiny voice right in the dark recesses of his mind – a corner which he had not listened to for years – which wanted to pounce and do unspeakable things. _She has shut herself in your room. Do it._

'I don't want to talk about...anything from back _then_.'

'Why not?' she asked, cocking her head.

'Because I hate the things that I've done in my past!'

The sudden outburst caught Elizabeth by surprise and she took a step back. She knew that even as he was now, Hal might just take a sudden U-turn and do something drastic. Now it was Elizabeth's turn to keep her cool in the presence of anger. Hal had moved slightly closer.

'I can't just be so casual about everything like you can, Elizabeth,' Hal continued, his fists clenched at his sides. 'I need to block it all out! I just can't give my past the chance to ruin what I have now!' It only annoyed him more when he realised she was giving him _that_ blank yet calculating face. 'I can't afford to make any mistakes and talking with you _is_ a mistake!'

Elizabeth set the crane aside. 'You know your poetry, Hal. "To err is human" and all that. Trying to block out everything you've ever done is not going to do much good.'

'You said earlier, and I quote, "you of all people should know emotional baggage doesn't just go away"!'

'It never goes away, but it doesn't have to rule you. This routine _rules_ your life.' Her hair was being temperamental again; she tucked some loose strands behind her ear. He watched her fingers brush against her neck. 'You've been trying to cut yourself off, to become more human, when really everything you're trying _not_ to do is what is preventing you from being normal. Humanity makes mistakes. If you do the same you're one of them.'

'Oh, how would you know?'

'Because I'm trying to redeem myself too! And the only time I ever feel remotely human is when I'm around them! Interacting with them! Making a fool of myself to amuse my students! When I make a mistake or "err", whatever it is!'

Hal had to admit, despite the constant possibility that he might murder one of them, serving the customers at the _Café on the Corner_ had taken his mind off things. That and meticulously organising the condiments. 'You're not as old as me,' Hal retaliated, but now with a more docile air about him, despite his trembling jaw.

'Old enough,' she scoffed. However, her condescending tone faded. Elizabeth looked for a moment, really looked, at the vampire standing opposite her. He was physically and mentally struggling. She was too, clearly just not to the same extent as Hal. She felt bad, responsible even, for some of his pain. And despite all this, she still wanted to know the answer to her question. What kind of flattery-seeking fiend did that make her? 'How hard is it to answer a question, Hal?'

_She's practically asking you to do it. _

'Do you really want to know or are you just trying to boost your self-confidence?' His question came across like venom.

Elizabeth suddenly became defensive, folding her arms under her chest and scowling. 'If I was really lacking in the latter department, I would have come in here wearing nothing but my undergarments to get your attention. I really just want an honest to God answer.' Her shoulders slumped again and she let out a defeated sigh. 'I need to know. I've always _needed _to know; to know that the friendship I feel for you is reciprocated in some way or another and that someone in this world has thought of me as something more than a slave or a whore.'

'You're...' he started with a firm voice, which quietened suddenly. Hal licked his lips. 'You are neither of those things.' He hadn't sounded at all sympathetic, but the certainty in his voice reassured her. The room fell silent for a few seconds; Elizabeth unable to press him further for an answer and Hal finding his own words choking him the more anxious he became. His fingers began fidgeting again. 1, 2, 3, 4. 4, 3, 2, 1. He inhaled to ease the constriction in his airways. She wasn't even doing anything and she was making him feel uncomfortable. She always, somehow, managed to do that. 'I…err…' At the sound of his voice Elizabeth raised an eyebrow expectantly. The edge of his mouth twitched.

Elizabeth waved a hand in dismissal. 'Look, I shouldn't have intruded,' she stepped away, towards the door. She was being far too casual; he knew that she still wanted her question answered. 'It was brash of me and -…'

'No.' He looked like he was still mediating whether to speak even though his voice had been so firm. 'You're right. I should tell the truth.' His eyes turned to the floor, but he soon forced them to look Elizabeth in the face. 'I was jealous.'

She physically shifted backwards, but inside Elizabeth's malicious demon was crawling its way to the surface. It was a side of her she had tried to tame, but it was worse than the beast which hungered for blood and this was the perfect opportunity to tease Hal. A bright sparkle came to her eyes. 'Jealous of what?' she asked with an impish smile. 'Or who…?' The demon wanted him to respond in fury and he did.

'Does it really matter now?'

The glint vanished. She was so erratic around him. Surely it was because of _him_? She had been perfectly fine until she had shut herself in _his_ bedroom. 'What I meant to say was: why would you be jealous?' This time her voice was not so provoking. 'You were an Old One for goodness sake!'

'Oh yes,' Hal retorted. He had tried to keep his past at bay, but she had made it inevitable, like a witch conjuring up the evil in Pandora's box. 'And I could have everything I wanted! But, don't you see?' His chest his heaving, his voice now a low and intimidating hiss. 'I couldn't have you; physically _have_ you! You tempted me – do you realise how dangerous that could have been? – but always stayed with Fergus! I couldn't comprehend why you, a vampire who was older and more superior, would stay with a shit like Fergus!' Hal unexpectedly fell quiet, breathing out through his nose. 'I was jealous because you wouldn't acknowledge me, when I was _clearly_ the superior being.' Thank God, that wasn't the person he was any more. In fact, if he was still the same vampire he would have been far too arrogant to admit anything of the sort.

Elizabeth didn't react for some time and her words arrived in a hesitant stutter. 'W-would you like me to apologise?' Again, Hal sighed.

'No,' he shook his head. 'I've moved on.' Elizabeth watched the corners of Hal's mouth tremble and, now he had vented, he had hunched his shoulders like a shy child.

'Well, it's only taken 140 so years to get all that out in the open.' Her attempt at easing the dark mood which had fallen was such a human response to everything. Hal still didn't quite understand why the natural response to sombre news was humour. It was unnatural, but the vampire actually found himself smirking at the thought of it all. His smile quickly vanished when he realised she had moved closer again. Her fingers were teasing her necklace as she thought, but her other hand was reaching for his.

She didn't smell of violets any more. Hal could just smell her: fresh from her shower but stale with death. All vampires smelt of death, it was inevitable and natural, like a human smelling of the iron in their blood. Hal was staring at the floor between them, unable to look into her hazel brown eyes.

'I know you have a thing about physical contact,' she began quietly, 'but you could make an exception to that rule…Just for me.' She didn't sound like she was trying to seduce him – he knew all her tricks from the old days – but he felt like she was. Her voice was gentle, but inviting at the same time.

He became very aware of her fingers on the back of his hand, both of them watching the movement of their hands. Hal instantly withdrew his quickly, but, where he'd normally tense up and hurriedly back away, he moved his hand forward to feel her touch again. Could he really do it? This would be breaking a rule – a _big _rule. He knew how to do _it_. Of course he did; just because he hadn't for 56 years didn't mean he had forgotten. But to think of the repercussions…

His fingers found her hand with a tentative brush.

Hal bit his lip. Focused his mind. Let out a weighted breath through his nose. Clasped her hand suddenly and pulled her against him. His whole body was shaking, his mind trying to convince him that he should be repelled but at the same time conflicting with what his body wanted. When he kissed her the first time he was delicate and wary. It was as if he was experimenting how far he could go. His unexpected move had taken Elizabeth by surprise. When Hal drew back he realised her eyes were closed, her lips slightly parted. _Jesus Christ._ She wasn't even trying and he wanted to kiss her again.

He was much more determined the second time, as if his body had realised just how desperate it actually was. And he knew instantly he wasn't going to stop. He just couldn't deny himself this chance. _Do not lose control. Do not lose control._ Elizabeth responded with as much fervour, although, for some reason, he could feel her holding back. He didn't want her to. If they were going ahead with this they would do it properly.

Elizabeth gasped when he grabbed the small of her back and forced her hips against his. Hal's mouth swallowed the moan she let out. The blood had already rushed from Hal's brain and relocated in his nether regions. She felt it, rubbed against it. Hal groaned. He knew she was going to make it thoroughly impossible for him to slow anything down. _Fine_.

He hooked his fingers under the hem of her shirt and, breaking the kiss, in one quick swoop he pulled it off over her head. Hal glanced at her lace clad breasts; it would have been so easy to bite down, taste the blood under the soft flesh. But somehow Hal stayed himself. Elizabeth recognised the blood-lusty stare in Hal's eyes, realised he wasn't lunging for her.

'Well done...' she murmured, clutching his hair and bringing his lips down to crash against hers. She let his tongue roam into her mouth. She tasted of tea and sugar. He still had coffee lingering on his tongue.

Her hand was at the nape of his neck, teasing the short hairs, while the other sneaked under his navy polo shirt and stroked the sensitive skin below his navel. Hal nipped at her bottom lip in frustration. He could live with this foreplay but not for much longer. He whipped his own shirt off, throwing it into some distant corner. His cold skin pressed flush against hers, deliciously dead and electric to the touch. He couldn't stop his hands and mouth roaming, his tongue tasting her skin and revelling in the gasps and whimpers he extracted from her. His arousal was rubbing against his trousers and pressing into her hip. He needed her right now.

Hal reached for the hem of her pants, keeping eye contact with her as he pulled them down her legs. Elizabeth kicked them aside, all the while focused on Hal's pupils, which had turned dark and lustful. He was still stooped in front of her and now his curious tongue had found its way to angles of her hips. It trailed along the curve of the bone and swirled across the hollow skin beside it. He did the same to the other, occasionally nibbling but never hard enough to draw blood. Elizabeth let out a loud moan, wishing he would go lower. Hal didn't. His teasing side had risen and he was tormenting her. She placed a hand under his chin and pulled him to his feet.

She popped the button on his trousers, pulled the zip down and pushed them until they hung loosely about his hips. Without hesitation her hand slipped into his boxers and wrapped around his hard length.

'Shit,' he hissed, his eyes closed tight as a malicious smirk came to her face. Hal momentarily lost control of the situation, before finally regaining his composure and slipping his hands down to her thighs. Without warning he lifted her up and pressed her back against the nearest surface. Elizabeth hit the mantelpiece hard enough to rattle the origami figures Hal had lined up. He tried to hold her there with the force of his body, but almost lost his footing in the fire place.

Elizabeth released her grasp on him and busied herself searching for a firm hold. She narrowly missed knocking the radio off the mantel. Hal shifted, pushing her up against the solid wall, never once detaching his lips from hers. He paused and drew back for a minute. Her chest was heaving, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. Her lips were bruised, swollen. And in that instant Hal couldn't help but remember the moment in the cellar; the first he really remembered _looking_ at her. And whether it was that little voice convincing him or his body giving into its natural instinct he couldn't stop now, even though his body was beginning to shake.

Hal pushed her knickers aside with his fingers, positioning himself at her entrance. She glanced down at him, her eyes begging him to do it. He didn't need much convincing. He entered her quickly, all the way to his hilt. She stifled the moan which threatened to pass her lips. Hal waited, also finding himself gasping at the contact. After all, he hadn't done this for all of 56 years. Elizabeth moved against him, letting him know she was ready.

He pulled out slowly, before thrusting all the way back in. He continued in the same way, keeping a steady rhythm. Elizabeth tilted her head back, neck arched. It would be so easy for him to literally snap at the opportunity, rip the skin from her throat. He didn't. For a split second Hal saw her eyes turn as black as a starless night, but she closed them quickly.

'Nngh, harder,' she whimpered, clutching at his hair. He increased his pace, bucking hard against her and moaning loudly when she began to move against him in time. She had had plenty of practice to learn what drove men closer to the edge. Her thighs clutched tighter at his hips, drawing him deeper. Her free hand searched for something to hold on to. Hal's hand found hers, weaving his fingers through hers and supporting himself.

Elizabeth could feel her muscles beginning to tighten. Clearly Hal did too. He let out a particularly loud groan, but hurriedly cut himself short. It only just dawned on him that Annie or Tom might hear, come running in and discover...this. It was so hard to keep himself in check. He was beyond that. They were both close. So _very_ close. Elizabeth clenched her hand so tight in Hal's her knuckles turned white. She had forgotten her rhythm. She was on the verge of coming undone.

Her nails dug hard into Hal's back. 'Oh sh-! Hal!' she cried, her body convulsing. It sent Hal over the edge also. He pressed his face into the side of her neck, snarling against her skin. He was trembling all over. His legs failed him, his muscles turned limp. Before he lost his grip on her completely, Hal set Elizabeth back down on the floor. She realised their fingers were still weaved together and quickly disentangled herself from his grasp.

He half expected Annie or Tom to burst in, but everything was silent except for his and Elizabeth's staccato breathing. Hal was surprised at how gently, affectionately even, her hand ran through his hair. He caught her wrist. He was trying to force himself to feel guilty, but he knew it was impossible.

'You didn't bite me,' she muttered in a tone that suggested she was surprised by the fact. She stopped herself from adding: _And you're better than Fergus_. Hal wasn't in the mood to talk. He didn't really want to do anything other than retain the contact they had. 'Would you like me to leave?'

'No,' he responded quickly. His hand which had been resting on her hip gripped tighter. Maybe it was just his own trained sense of control or maybe it was just being around her, but Hal felt no urge for blood. It gave him a wonderful sense of ease. He might as well exploit it while he could. He pulled away from the wall, taking her with him, one hand on her lower back, the other on her thigh.

In one quick move he reversed their positions and laid her down on his bed, so the length of his body covered hers. His lips were at her ear, grazing along the shell. Elizabeth shivered at his newly reawakened seductive side, as he whispered, 'We're going to make up for lost time.'

They did. Well after the street lamps had died and given way to the sun.


	10. England 1867, May: The Letter

**_England 1867 (May), The Letter: _**_"I_ write because I'm afraid to say some things out loud." - Anon__

_My dear, dear Hal,_

_I will be brief, as I plan on boarding the next boat departing for America._

_I refuse to stay. (Not even for another conversation with you.) For the many years I believed I was a liberated woman, I was honestly no better than how I was in my human years. I must find something of my own. I will not find it in England. And I certainly will not find it around either of you. Furthermore, I would not want to impose any further on the life you are leading. I am tired of desecrating unsuspecting households for sport. (Although, I realise this may be hard to comprehend.)_

_You are probably questioning why I have written to you and not him. I shall not go into detail, but I have come to realise you are the only one who will listen. (Even when you are drunk on blood.) I also know for a fact you will probably mourn my departure far more, although, admittedly, I do not completely understand why you would care. It may not be reciprocated, but I do consider you as something akin to a friend._

_And maybe I might come to miss your company too…_

_E. Jefferson._

_P.S. Kindly tell Fergus to 'Fuck off'._


	11. The Days That Followed

So I have finally finished the next chapter after who knows how many months! I apologize for the stupidly long delay but life got in the way lol Hope you still enjoy (Y) Need to point out that this whole story does occur after 4.05: Hold the Front Page (you'll see why in the latter half)

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><p><strong><em>The Days that Followed: "<em>**_There was a definite process by which one made people into friends, and it involved talking to them and listening to them for hours at a time." – Rebecca West_

In the strange moment between sleep and full consciousness, Hal found himself recalling the smell of violets, the pressure of another form against his and the feel of a cold body lying along the full length of his. And, for once, he didn't feel the ever present hunger. The monster in him was at peace for those few minutes. In an attempt to hold on to the moment he rolled on to his side, eyes still closed and stretched an arm out. Instead of a smooth shoulder or the curve of a waist his hand merely felt the indent of where someone had been.

She was gone. _Of course she was gone._

The vampire finally forced himself to wake up. The duvet was still partly thrown back where she had left it; the sheets still crumpled; the fabric still clutching on to her sweet, dead scent. Hal looked beyond the bed to find that the origami figures had been rearranged, although some were creased and torn. Hal shifted on to his back and stared at the ceiling. He shouldn't have expected to find her there in the first place. He shouldn't have raised his hopes.

_Oh well._ Hal figured that if she was gone it would cause less hassle for him. He could get back to his routine and she would just be a blip. If she had only woken earlier and gone back to her room or downstairs then that would alleviate some of the awkward "morning after" conversation.

-x-

Elizabeth was sitting at the breakfast table with her back to the living room, a newspaper folded up just by her right hand. Tom was to her left, clad only in his underwear and gulping down large mouthfuls of Cheerios. Eve's was securely clipped into her carrier which was placed on the chair beside Tom. Just as Hal walked in Annie swooped through the double kitchen doors with two mugs which were full to the brim.

'Two teas,' she beamed, setting each mug down carefully in front of the vampire and werewolf. 'Morning Hal!'

'Good morning,' he said uncertainly, straightening out his shirt and glancing at the back of Elizabeth's head.

'Coffee?'

'Err…yes, please.'

Hal sat beside Elizabeth as naturally as possible –the last thing he wanted was for Tom or Annie to notice a change in his character. Elizabeth passed him a subtle smile, but quickly hid it behind her mug as she took a sip of tea. The edge of Hal's mouth twitched but he stopped himself from responding.

''Ow d'ya sleep?' Tom asked.

'Fine,' Hal responded bluntly. He didn't want to give anything away.

Annie re-entered the room, placing Hal's mug on a coaster in front of him and took up the space beside him. 'Have you boys got work today?' At the sound of Annie's voice Eve began to whine. The ghost carefully removed her from the carrier and cradled her in her arms instead.

'Yup,' Tom replied. Hal nodded in agreement. The werewolf's spoon clanked at the bottom of the bowl; he had already finished and Hal had only just arrived. Then again it never took Tom very long to at anything. 'Don't be too long, 'Al, we gotta go soon.' Once Tom had put the bowl on the sink he ran upstairs to dress. The breakfast table was instantly left in a momentary silence.

Hal took a deep gulp of coffee – perfectly made as usual – and glanced at Elizabeth over the rim of his mug. She was immaculate; not a trace of last night left on her person…and the necklace was nowhere in sight. Why did that please him so much?

'Elle was telling me how you two settled your differences last night,' Annie stated, smiling. Hal almost choked on his coffee, causing surprised looks from the women on either side of him.

'Just that we had a good, long _talk_,' Elizabeth confirmed for Hal's benefit. She noted how the muscles in his face relaxed again, as he regained his original composure. Annie's smile turned into a full grin and she gave Hal a friendly punch in the shoulder.

'Well done, Hal! Reconciliation is good for the soul!'

'Of course it is,' Hal responded dryly, rising from the table. 'If you would please excuse me.' Before anyone could respond he had vanished down the hallway, past the reception desk. Elizabeth finished her tea and also made to leave the room.

'Thank you for the tea,' she smiled pleasantly at Annie.

Left alone, the ghost looked down at the baby in her arms. Eve gently waved her arms about, clutching for the soft wool of Annie's cardigan. 'We won't let them know what we heard last night, will we?' Annie cooed, tickling Eve. The baby gurgled happily. 'Will we? No we won't.'

Elizabeth caught up with Hal just outside his room. She didn't reach out for him, she didn't even enter his personal space; she kept the width of the Hallway between them. Hal could smell the perfume she had already sprayed on, it crept through his senses as it always did. He wanted to feel it again, feel her against him, feel the absolute peace that came in succession.

'I didn't say anything to Annie,' she confirmed. 'Although I don't think these walls are very thick. Who knows what she and Tom picked up.' Elizabeth appeared to find the situation rather amusing, but Hal didn't seem so convinced. Not that there was anything he could do about it.

'I thought…,' Hal begin passing his gaze from the floor then back to Elizabeth, 'I thought you might have left.' The vampire shook her head with a sympathetic smile. She wanted to move closer, but she wasn't quite sure what the dynamic now was between them. One step and she could wrap herself up in him again. Instead of giving him a physical response she gave a more sarcastic, human response.

'Why on earth would I leave so abruptly when everyone here makes me feel so wanted?'

The most illusive of smirks tweaked at the corner of Hal's mouth. He was starting to get the gist of the human need to respond to emotion with a joke. 'I have to go to work,' he pointed out, checking his watch. 'Mustn't be late.'

'Yes, of course,' Elizabeth moved away towards her room. 'I suppose I should say: have a good day.'

Hal huffed. 'Yes, that is the correct term. I will see you later.' His voice sounded uncertain, questioning even, but Elizabeth nodded all the same in response. Hal was just about to open the door to his room when Elizabeth called out from down the hall.

'By the way, you know your room smells of demon?'

-x-

The café was predictably quiet for the most of the day and in the evening when Hal and Tom returned they sank into their usual spots on the sofa to watch The Antiques Road Show. Annie and Elizabeth were more concerned with Eve; raining attention on her. Elizabeth secretly enjoyed pretending that Eve was part of her family, something which she would never truly experience. She would make the most of it now. Annie had commented again how good the vampire was with the baby.

Later, when Tom had gone to his room and Annie had put Eve in her cot, Hal and Elizabeth lingered in the living room. They took the chance to talk, openly and unhindered, no longer restrained by their lust for blood or their unhealthy relationships. Hal explained the recent issue with the succubus. He was very serious about the whole ordeal, but Elizabeth laughed whole-heartedly about it. Upstairs the vampires said goodnight, although Elizabeth didn't quite make it back to her room.

-x-

Elizabeth didn't allow herself to sleep in that morning again. Not that she didn't like the image of Hal only just covered by a tangled bed sheet, but she knew that loitering would imply something of a relationship forming between them. _It is not a relationship._ Besides, she would have to leave at some point today. Her flight was early tomorrow morning. Elizabeth quietly climbed out of bed and found her clothes as quickly as possible, taking a few seconds to slip into her underwear. Just as she had bundled up the rest of her items Hal woke up.

'Morning,' Elizabeth said with a smile.

'Trying to make a hasty escape again I see.'

At this, to deliberately contradict the Old One, Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and set her clothes aside. Hal was now sat up and had pulled the sheet across to cover his lower half completely. His lips were parted as if he was preparing to speak, but remained silent. To prevent an awkward silence Elizabeth spoke up.

'You kept looking at my neck yesterday,' she began, her fingers rising to play with the necklace that was no longer there.

Hal responded in a nonchalant manner. 'I simply noticed that you had removed your necklace.' Elizabeth knew otherwise, rolling her eyes statement. She knew without a doubt that Hal was pleased she was no longer wearing something that reminded them both of Fergus. It had been a present from him after all. She had been attached to the jewellery, but she had to agree it was time to get rid of it.

'It was time for a change,' she shrugged.

Hal found himself smiling. 'Good.'

At that moment Hal's bedroom door was flung open and the bright, cheery face of Annie appeared. 'Hal,' she sounded slightly breathless, 'don't forget…' Annie's voice soon trailed off when she spotted Hal was naked. In embarrassment he quickly pulled the sheet further up his body. The ghost was far more surprised to see Elizabeth half-clothed at the other end of the bed. 'Oh God!' she exclaimed shielding her eyes. 'I didn't realise you two were…You know…Urm, Hal don't forget you've got to feed Eve in 10 minutes…Yes.' The ghost shut the door hurriedly.

'Christ!' Hal grumbled.

Elizabeth began to laugh. 'Come on now, you have to admit looking after Eve isn't all bad.'

'That's _not_ was I'm concerned about. What if she says something to Tom?'

'And what are either of them going to do?' Elizabeth shook her head. 'You over-react sometimes.' The other vampire wrinkled his nose and passed her a resentful glare.

'No, I react just the right amount. I can't believe you are so unconcerned by this.'

Elizabeth's bout of chuckling subsided and a more thoughtful gaze took over her features. She cocked her head mindfully. 'Do you ever wish you had a family?' she muttered, almost inaudibly but Hal heard her all the same.

'Occasionally. I suppose Annie and Tom count as family in some sense.'

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, gathering up her clothes once again. 'I'm sure I'll miss them,' she mused. The vampire rose from her seat and headed towards the door. However, when she did reach for the handle she paused and looked back at Hal. 'Don't take it for granted – everything you have here I mean. And remember what I said about being human: go out and do something _human_, find a nice girl to take out on a date or something.'

'I couldn't do that,' Hal interjected firmly.

Elizabeth leaned over and kissed Hal quickly on the lips, her hand just gracing his jaw. The action was hurried but desperate all the same. 'Don't forget about Eve,' she said, vanishing through the door and down the hallway.


	12. The Days That Followed: The Letter

I've actually had the letter written for a while, it was just a case of filling in the gaps before it that took me months to get down to lol

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><p><strong><em>The Days That Followed, The Letter: <em>**_"The girl with a future avoids the man with a past." – Even Esar_

It was another long day at the café for Tom and Hal. On their return to Honolulu Heights they expected to find Annie smiling and fussing over baby Eve, or perhaps folding up the washing while the baby watched. Elizabeth might be there making idle conversation or reading a book in her room. However, Annie's face was the complete opposite when Tom and Hal found her apparently waiting for them by the bar. She was sat cross-legged on one of the stools, her hands clasped about her knee.

'What's the matter?' Hal asked, concerned.

''As somethin' 'appened?' Tom added.

'It's nothing to worry about, not really,' the ghost reached to an envelope beside her and passed it to Hal. 'She wanted to say goodbye in person but you two were at work.' Gingerly, the vampire relieved Annie of the envelope. It was weighted by something inside it. Tom watched Hal with interest as he opened up the envelope. Inside was a folded sheet of paper and Elizabeth's silver necklace.

'What does it say?' Tom queried, pointing at the letter. Hal didn't reach to unfold it.

'If you'll excuse me, I'd prefer to read this in private.'

'All right, mate,' the werewolf said, patting Hal awkwardly - albeit reassuringly - on the shoulder before he went up to his room. Annie nodded understandingly and rent-a-ghosted from the front room. Left alone Hal pulled the letter from the envelope and took up the seat Annie had evaporated from. The hand-writing was elegant as it had always been on letters from Elizabeth. He was reluctant to read the letter, but eventually he convinced himself to get it over and done with.

_Dear Hal,_

_I am not running away this time. I plan to never do that again. Once again, it is coincidence that I had to leave before you returned from work with Tom, as it was coincidence that I found you in Honolulu Heights. But I did not want to leave without a proper letter to explain things to you, as I have failed miserably to do such a thing in the past. _

_Letters written by my own hand rarely mean anything good, but this time I assure you the subjects contained within are not as morose as they have been in the past. I would firstly like to thank you for inviting me into your home. Annie and Tom are wonderful people, as you can undoubtedly concur. And baby Eve…well, even with her title of the "War Child" is very loveable._

_I do not want this letter to take a downward spiral, but I feel the need to explain – really explain – why I originally left. I know for a fact I have never explicitly told you, or anyone for that matter, the real reason. This is for your eyes only, Hal. It would be easy to assume that it was the arguments which convinced me to leave, but in fact there was something else which was the catalyst. I had reached a point where I wanted to have a family but knew I couldn't and I didn't want to sire unsuspecting humans just to achieve this. I know vampires aren't supposed to feel emotional attachment in any way, shape or form but when I saw families – children especially – it…upset me. It reminded me that through my own choice I was sterile. So, you can imagine how I reacted when I saw Fergus murder a child. (This happened about a week before I moved to America). The human girl was no more than twelve; a poor child who Fergus killed just because she was there. Although I did not confront him on this point, it did bring an end to my bloody rampage. This act finally highlighted to me that I could not continue as I was; I wanted to regain my humanity to whatever extent possible. It is why I became a teacher. To surround myself with children, when I could have none of my own._

_Now. Back to the present day. _

_I must admit that over the last two nights I used you. Not to intentionally hurt you, but for my own selfish ends. I hope and pray that you can forgive me for the self-seeking actions, because they were not completely the reason why the occurrences did happen. It was not anything like love which spurred me on to take those actions – as I would not credit such a thing to exist after the long length of my life – but something closer to sating a need which had been stagnant between friends. (Do not say we do not have that relationship, as you would be lying to yourself). It was evident, from the moment you entered the cellar in 1855 and I turned to you instead of Fergus, that something like this was inevitable. And – this is going to sound horribly cliché – it had to wait until the right moment. (I feel disgusting having written that, but I could not think of another way to phrase it!)_

_Yet, despite all this, it is best I leave sooner rather than later. We are both addicts on the road to recovery; being in each other's company for a lengthy period of time could cause adverse effects. We are both still volatile._

_My insecurity has been so long standing that it cannot simply be eradicated with a kind word from an old friend. Although, please know that you have aided partially in spurring me to manage the long standing problem of my diminished self-confidence. And, so many times I have had the chance but never really thanked you for how you have treated me through the years, Hal. That small margin of respect you always seemed to have for me (even imploring me to stay on the day I was departing for America). My maker abandoned me, as did Fergus. I can safely say that I was the one who left you (maybe a mistake in hindsight). Anyway, I shall say it now: Thank you. And although you said I did not need to apologise for my past misdemeanours, I shall do so anyway._

_It is not impossible for you or me to live a human life – or as near to one as we can get. Take chances like a mortal would. Continue your routine (I may have to set up one of my own, seeing how much Leo's regime has helped you). As I said before, the gentleman you are now is an improvement tenfold from the vampire I knew back in the 1800s. _

_Who knows, if circumstances had been different from the outset maybe it would have been you and I walking the streets of London, rather than myself and Fergus. But then I would not be able to say now how dear a friend you are to me. Again, it is not love, only a superlative friendship. Because of this fact, I would not want us to be separated for such a great length of time as before. _

_To reiterate my first point, I am not running away. In fact, I have written this letter on paper which is manufactured for the school I work for (the phone number is in the top, right-hand corner. Just ask for Miss. Jefferson) and Annie took great pleasure in writing down the Honolulu Heights phone number for me to add to my contacts diary. I do not know what we might say over the phone, but just in case there is some sort of emergency…Who knows?_

_However, I know for certain that I will miss you, Hal, and I hope you will miss me in equal measure. Take care of yourself and Annie, Tom and Eve._

_Yours sincerely,_

_E. Jefferson_


	13. Epilogue

**_Epilogue: _**_"Just because you love someone doesn't mean you have to be involved with them. Love is not a bandage to cover wounds." – Hugh Elliot_

Hal read the letter three times over at the bar, taking the time to let his brain absorb all the information. It was one of Elizabeth's more heartfelt goodbyes, he had to admit. And, although he was disappointed, sad even, he smiled. Hal set the paper aside and removed the necklace from the envelope, allowing the silver chain to unravel as he drew it out. He had never actually found out how Fergus came to give Elizabeth the necklace, she had never told him in detail (neither had Fergus for that matter).

Hal could only assume she had left it at Honolulu Heights to be rid of it completely, to be rid of Fergus completely. The vampire rose from his seat, placed the letter back in the envelope and walked through to the kitchen. He promptly threw the necklace in the bin, appreciating the muted thump it made as it hit the bottom of the bin. No one would be retrieving it anytime soon. Hal then climbed the stairs to his room, taking the envelope with him.

As he sat on the sofa in his room, he stared at the letter, wondering what to do with it. He began tapping the edge of the paper against his lips before he decided. Hal opened up his brown, lather bag; it was the one place where he kept everything that was truly important to him. He made space at the front of the bag and slipped the letter in without causing it to crease or fold. That way he would never forget he had it. He could at least remind him that he had friends beyond the walls of the Bed and Breakfast.

Annie and Tom expected Hal to be utterly dejected the next day. On the contrary, he came downstairs with a determined mind and an unforeseen smile.

'Come along, Tom. We can't be late.' The werewolf stared at Hal, perplexed. Little did he know that the letter had actually inspired his friend; that the Old One had been encouraged to get on with the human aspects of his life; that Hal had realised how fond he was of a certain Elizabeth Jefferson even if she wasn't on the same continent. 'Besides, I want to start organising those eggs.'

* * *

><p>And there you have it :) I hope all of those who read to the end enjoyed it!<p> 


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